Eulogy
by Ibanezdemon
Summary: One possible -if not appealing- reality. Set during the latter days of the Clone Wars.


The two sabres danced their own respective dance in the pre-dawn. A strange and beautiful synchronicity about their path. Often coming together, if only for brief moments before breaking formation and flashing away into the remnants of the night.

Originally opting for the two-sabre stance, both for its aesthetics in battle -although he wouldn't admit it- and because in truth that he was as deadly with one sabre as with two. Anakin would counter any criticism with the fact that 'if one happened to get damaged in battle, he always had a spare'. Initially his cockyness had not sat well with the Jedi council, however the boy's skill and focus in all other aspects of his Padawan training had inclined them to indulge him. Over time, Anakin had reverted to a single sabre, choosing power and focus over ostentatiousness. Even ObiWan would admit, his force manipulation while duelling made him a formidable –if reckless-Jedi.

Ashoka sat not far away, knees up to her chin, hugging her legs to her to stave off the slight chill of the coming morning. Totally absorbed in the display being played out in front of her. For a long time Ashoka had been unaware of her masters inclinations towards duel wielding. The power he displayed during combat -with only a single sabre- had driven all such thoughts from her mind. Her own choice –of two sabres- was more than just aesthetics, more than effectiveness in battle, it just felt. Right. Anakin had never questioned that and now she knew why.

On following her master to a wing of the Jedi temple still under construction, she witnessed the first of these meditations or katas. Her first reaction -to her master producing a second sabre from within his robes- was of wide-eyed shock. They had spent so much time in each others company, she was sure she knew everything about him. However once he began she had to stem her emotions, less, through some ripple in the force Anakin be aware of her presence. Once she could have sworn he felt her watching, pausing briefly and giving a cursory look over his shoulder before continuing.

Confident now that he was unaware of her company, Ashoka continued to attend these 'solitary' rituals on a regular basis. Watching the two sapphire-blue blades of concentrated light swoop, dive and loop together, effortless yet meaningful. She knew once he knew she was there, she would never get this sort of opportunity again. Not wanting to push her luck, she would always leave before the end and dissolve into the surroundings, as she did now.

Anakin spun, rolled and thrust with a fluent and seemingly controlled passion, a sweat now glistening on his brow and forearms. The control would seem evident to an outsider. Yet inside -through the wall- no, prison he had created around him- his world was falling to pieces. Endless questions. The lack of answers leading to frustration. The lack of a decent outlet to expel this torrent of frustration leading him to anger. Anger was forbidden to the Jedi. Feelings were something to be cast aside. No attachments. No connections.

There was only the code.

He spat. Exhausted now both physically and mentally, Anakin fell to his knees, dropping both sabres and clawing outstretched hands into the dirt below. Sadness once again enveloping him in its dark, smothering cloak.

So what happens when he did make a connection? When this connection brought him closer to the force than before, even bettering him as a result of its companionship. Two halves, thrown together on a whim, yet over time becoming more as a whole. What does one half do when the other half is no longer there? In the beginning these little excursions had been more like powerful meditations than stress relief. An effort to draw himself so far into the force that he would get the answers he needed. If not, then to at least reach out and explain, in the only way he now could. To say what he'd been trying so hard to say for the last few months.

"I'm sorry.. Ashoka, I'm so sorry.."

_**We all cope with the loss of friends differently. For some though, this is just a nudge over the edge to a long dark path where eventually misery and loss are expected. Once such a path is begun it often takes more than strength to turn around. Friends are there for one another no matter what. Treasure each one. C**_


End file.
